


High On Fear

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: The Forbidden Love of Nightwing and Deathstroke [36]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Heart Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mirakuru Slade Wilson, Past Rape/Non-con, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 12:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: After a fight with Slade, Dick storms off to patrol in Gotham and gets himself screwed over into a little bit of trouble.





	High On Fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is longer than I meant it to be.
> 
> Oopsie.
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> Enjoy.

They’d fought. Dick had gone to Gotham to patrol. Now he was getting his ass kicked

Nightwing is getting his ass kicked. There’s no other way around that.

He is straight up getting his butt handed to him because he and Slade had a fight and Dick stormed out on patrol. Which meant he wasn’t focused and instead was distracted by his anger.

Which lead to his current predicament.

“Why me?” he asked, seconds before a blow landed across his jaw, sending him flying across the warehouse floor, escrima sticks skittering out of his hands.

He can taste blood now. Fantastic.

Groaning, he pushed himself to his hands and knees, only to be grabbed by the back of his suit and thrust into the arms of Two-Face, arms restrained behind his back as Scarecrow approached, canister in hand.

“Shit,” Nightwing cursed aloud eloquently.

Scarecrow chuckled ominously as he stood before Nightwing. “You know what it is?” he asked, holding up the canister.

“Well obviously, dumbass,” Nightwing snapped. His internal Batman was lecturing him on goading the villain, but why not? Wasn’t like he could get out of this situation. Antagonizing Crane or not, the end result was still going to be the same.

A dose of fear toxin and a super fun ride home.

Dick briefly debated calling Slade but...no. The mercenary...his  _ husband _ \- ex-husband probably if Slade had anything to say after their fight - was more likely to tell him to choke on himself then come save him.

So Dick pushed those thoughts away. He’d program his bike to take him to the batcave and the bitch ass he called a husband could suck it.

“I hope you like my new formula,” Crane said with a smile before he sprayed the green gas into Nightwing’s face.

 

………….

Four Hours Later

 

He needed to get up. Needed to get up and go...go where? He couldn’t go somewhere but where was that? Where  _ could  _ he go?

He couldn’t...he couldn’t go somewhere cause someone was there but-

He whimpered when he felt fingers trailing over his spine. He gasped loudly, eyes flying open to find Catalina and Grant standing over him.

“It’s alright, mi amor,” Catalina soothed, stroking the tip of her boot over Dick’s cheek. Grant grinned at her side, hands on his hips and a cocky gleam in his eyes.

“I was trying to help you,” he mocked. “Because he never loved you.”

“No,” Dick whined, voice high and breathless as his heart jackrabbits in his chest. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Catalina and Grant asked in sync, their faces morphing as they seared together until Slade in his Deathstroke uniform was towering over Dick, a cold, emotionless, empty glint in his eye.

Dick sobbed as Slade knelt down in front of him, grabbing a fistful of Dick’s hair and pulling to expose his throat.

“If I really love you,” Slade snarled. “Then where am I?”

His fist flew towards Dick’s face and the acrobat blacked out.

 

…………..

 

In hindsight, Slade thought as he lay in bed on his phone. Their fight was dumb. Which...he was rather impressed that it had taken three years of marriage for a fight that bad to even happen in the first place.

He glanced at the time. Four AM. Dick was out later than usual. Later than he was supposed to be.

Heaving a tired sigh, Slade pulled himself out of bed and slipped through the window to stand on the fire escape, deciding to wait there until Dick got back so he could, reluctantly, apologize and look the acrobat over for injuries.

He’d barely been standing there more than ten seconds before a body suddenly plummeted off the roof above him. If it weren’t for Slade’s quick reaction time, the body would have splattered into a pancake on the grimey sidewalk below.

Thankfully, enhanced with Mirakuru and several years of military training, Slade managed to catch the person’s wrist so that the body merely swung against the fire escape, making a loud slamming noise.

Beneath his fingers, Slade could feel the hummingbird pulse and instantly pulled the person up, only for his eye to go wide.

“Kid?” he murmured as Dick crumpled to the ground at his feet, shaking violently. Looking around and deciding they needed to get out of public, Slade easily picked his puddle husband up and swiftly stepped through the window into the bedroom, pouring the acrobat onto the bed before turning to close, and lock the window before closing the window blinds as well.

When he turned back around, Dick had stumbled off of the bed and was curled on the floor in the corner, mask off and pupils blown wide.

“Kid-” Slade began, only for Dick to lash out, throwing one of his escrima sticks at Slade. The aim was terribly off, the stick not even coming close to Slade’s head. “Dick,” Slade tried again, only for Dick to scream.

Not even scream any words. Just a loud, high pitched, ear splitting scream of pure fear and agony. Loud enough that it irritated Slade’s enhanced hearing. Once Dick had screamed himself out a breath, he tucked himself into a small ball and began to sob. Loud, gut wrenching noises.

“Alright, take it easy,” Slade soothed, slowly rounding the bed. Dick didn’t move, clutching his hair and rocking back and forth. “What happened, Dick?” he asked, kneeling a few feet away. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t!” Dick shrieked when Slade tried to touch him. “Don’t touch me! Stay away from me! Leave me alone!”

His voice kept getting louder and louder, so Slade wasn’t surprised when he heard banging on the front door. Casting a wary glance at Dick and wishing he could handcuff the kid to the bed and keep him in place without him screaming his head off, Slade stood and made his way out to the living room.

It was their neighbor. The one that flirted with Dick all the damn time. The one that once touched Dick’s ass, even after Dick had politely asked the man to leave him alone. The one who was always calling the police because he was just so  _ convinced  _ that Slade was abusing Dick.

Slade supposed to shrieking at four in the morning definitely didn’t impress the man.

“I heard screaming,” Roger said, not even caring about how his voice  _ dripped  _ with suspicion. “Is Dick alright?”

“He’s fine,” Slade replied easily.

“Forgive me for not trusting the words of a man who I’ve seen angry before,” Roger snapped. “Let me in.”

He stepped forward but was stopped by Slade’s hand on his chest. “Take another step in and I’ll call the police and say you were trespassing or breaking in,” Slade snapped.

“You wouldn't,” Roger sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cause then the police would see that you’re abusing him.”

Slade tilted his head. “Maybe I’m  _ not  _ abusing him,” Slade replied calmly. “Maybe that’s why I’m fine with calling the police.”

“Why was he screaming then?”

“Nightmare,” Slade responded easily. He had a feeling he wasn’t exactly wrong. “He was assaulted when he was eighteen, as well as a year and a half ago. He gets a lot of nightmares.”

“Assaulted by you.”

“No,” Slade replied easily. “Are you done or not?”

Roger sneered, shoving a finger into Slade’s chest. “I’ll be watching.” 

He stormed off. As soon as he was gone, Slade closed and locked the front door, rushing back to the bedroom only to find Dick crumpled on the ground.

He wasn’t breathing and he didn’t have a pulse. “Fuck,” Slade snapped, instantly dropping down to strip Dick’s suit to his waist, starting chest compressions. “Come on, kid,” he hissed, bending down to give mouth to mouth before beginning compressions again. He felt a rib snap but he kept going.

Finally, Dick arched up off the floor, eyes wide and pupils still blown from whatever drug was in his system as he gasped loudly. As soon as Slade was sure the kid was going to keep breathing - albeit still shaking violently as the drug took hold again - Slade rushed to strip Dick out of his suit, shoving it under the bed and quickly dressing Dick in a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before picking him up and rushing to the car.

 

……….

 

Beeping was what drew Dick back to consciousness and he blinked his eyes open, looking around through blurry vision with a frown.

He lifted his hands to rub away the blur, frown deepening when he noticed the IV in the back of his hand. He didn’t have a chance to think much on it before a firm, calloused hand was wrapping around his wrist, drawing his hand back to the bed.

“Slade?” Dick mumbled, recognizing the white hair despite the stark white walls of what he assumed was a hospital. “Where are we?”

“Gotham General,” Slade replied. 

“What happened?” Dick frowned. His voice was hoarse and raspy. He was thankful when Slade helped him get a drink from a styrofoam cup with a straw in it. He was thankful he didn’t have to sit up, because his muscles felt like jello.

“You were patrolling in Gotham after our fight,” the mercenary replied softly. “You ran into Scarecrow. Got dosed.”

“Oh,” Dick mumbled. “I’m better?”

Slade heaved a sigh and Dick instantly knew that whatever he was going to be told, there were going to be details missing.

“Yeah,” Slade replied. “I contacted Wayne and brought you here. He was in to visit a few days ago to give you the antidote?”

“Days?” Dick asked. “I’ve been here for days!?”

“Two,” Slade replied. “They wanted to monitor your heart.” he gestured to the sticky monitors on Dick’s chest.

“Why?” 

Slade’s expression was unreadable, more so than usual. “Our nosey neighbor came to ask why you were screaming,” Slade began. “When I got back…” he huffed. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Slade,” Dick said softly, reaching a weak hand over to grip Slade’s arm. “What happened?”

“You had a heart attack,” Slade replied. “CPR almost didn’t work.”

“But it did,” Dick told him. “You saved me.”

“Your heart stopped again as soon as we got to the ER,” Slade told him. “You were dead for a total of six minutes. Three the first time, three the second time.”

“Brain damage?” Dick asked instantly.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days,” Slade replied. “They’re going to find out today.”

“But I’m okay,” Dick said firmly. “I’m alive. That’s what matters, okay?”

“I was married to Adeline long enough to have three kids,” Slade began. “But I was never afraid of losing her like I am of losing you.”

Dick gave a small smile. “Well, good thing I’m here to stick around as long as I can.”

Slade let himself think like that, at least for Dick’s sake. But the truth of the matter was, Dick was going to die long before Slade even came close.

But for now, he let them enjoy their time together and let Dick remain oblivious.

It was kinder, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!! Let me know your thoughts!!!


End file.
